I just want to let the world know that despite the craziness that was my January, I did finish the painting for this month. Success! I’ll upload pictures tomorrow.
Monthly Archives: January 2010
First line of a poem by Emily Dickinson. The rest goes like this:
A Sequel stands beyond–
Invisible, as music–
But positive, as sound.
It beckons and it baffles;
Philosophies don’t know,
And through a riddle, at the last,
Sagacity must go.
To guess it puzzles scholars;
To gain it, men have shown
Contempt of generations,
And crucifixion known.
I read the poem first in an agenda planner, not English class. And the first few lines have always stayed with me. Most of my internal struggle over the last few months really comes down to one thing: fear of the unknown. I have been trusting God to provide for a ministry and a location, both of whose existence I am taking on faith. I have never been to California, and up until this weekend, I had never been a part of Destino. For all my experience shows, they aren’t real. I know more about Hogwarts than about Long Beach, CA; and it’s a creation of a person in Scotland! Fear of the unknown.
The tension in my life has come from affection for what is known, fear of what is not, and anxiety at moving from one to the other. I have only been able to see what I am being asked to leave, and this creates this false belief that I am leaving something for nothing. This lie can blind me to the truth that while God is calling me away from one thing, He is inviting me into another. I am entering into His work on a different stage, but it is still His work, His purpose, His people. Or it is like being called from one battle front to another because the General has deemed it strategic, and better (on all counts–for me, for the battle & for the war) than the current situation. And when the soldier receives notice that she is being relocated, it isn’t likely that a detailed essay on why and how and what are the results hoped for. In fact, she probably first just gets word to come in from the front lines to camp. Only then does she receive the next step.
I like the Emily Dickinson poem because some things are invisible as music, but positive, undeniable as sound. Like God’s calling. Sometimes we hear a sound, but we can identify what it was or where it came from. We begin to doubt that we heard it at all. Like a soldier cannot ignore a summons, I cannot resist God’s call. (Not in an I-have-no-choice-in-the-matter kind of way. In a… my-created-soul-can’t-turn-away-from-the-sweet-sound-of-its-Creator’s-voice kind of way. Deep calling to deep…) And with Destino, it has been a voyage of God opening my heart bit-by-bit, and opening doors one-after-the-other, and me moving forward in trust.
All that to say, God rarely give us all the information. He leads, but doesn’t show the whole map, that we might trust Him. And in trusting, experience a level of intimacy and love otherwise undiscovered. Because you can’t really discover anything in the land of the known, can you?
I have this strange habit that I think began in my freshman dorm room. I put all my desk stuff (papers, sticky notes, books, pens, other materials, chapstick, kleenex) on my bed during the day so that I have space at my desk to work. Then at night, I move all the stuff back into stacks on my desk so that I can sleep. Sometimes, I am just ready to flop onto my bed at the end of the day, but I have to stop and move all the stuff.
I am thankful for my room, for my warm bed and for my desk under the window.
One day, I will be thankful to be able to put my desk and my bed in separate rooms.
I love snow.
Children all over Northwest Arkansas are starting their THIRD snow day today. More snow is supposed to arrive tonight, so it is very possible that this will be a snow week. How exciting!
I just wish I was in school so that these snow days applied to me 🙂